in progress
by accidentallysherlocked
Summary: College AU, with no real direction, but has large promises of pointless fluff. RivaMika
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hello. I'm still getting used to so forgive me if I make minor changes here and there like this one where I couldn't figure out how to get the horizontal line (but finally managed to). Updates should be weekly ones, unless life takes over (which is highly improbable). Reviews make me very happy, especially if you want to comment on the writing and how I should improve on it!

**Disclaimer: **Don't own

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Mikasa kicked the door shut behind her and headed straight for the tattered sofa in the corner of the room, her arms laden with books.

"What's gotten you into such a foul mood?" Annie asked, barely taking her eyes up from her textbook as she ran on the treadmill.

"The usual," Mikasa grumbled, throwing herself down on the sofa. "I don't understand why the rest of the student body finds my life so exciting. Why don't they focus on their own lives?"

Annie rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you're not used to it yet; it's been a whole year."

"And you would think the interest would have died down since then," Mikasa pointed out. She had a point. Ever since entering the school with a full scholarship, she'd done nothing but try to keep her head down and draw as little attention as possible from the rest of the school. She barely talked in class, or to her other peers, and was always either alone, or walking with the same few people she'd come to the college with.

"Maybe you need to face it head on. You know, instead of running away from it," Annie stepped off the treadmill, and shut the textbook forcefully. "You could start throwing out details about your life to anyone who'd listen—that'd turn them off you, for sure,"

Mikasa rolled her eyes at Annie, then returned her eyes to the ceiling.

"What'd you do to them?" Annie asked interestedly, gathering her bathing supplies and clothes, preparing to head out to the communal shower, something she loathed with her entire being, but was utterly dependent on.

"Suffice to say they won't be coming back in the near future to ask if I wore coloured bras,"

"You should really rein in your violent tendencies," Sasha Braus said, barging into the room. "That'll never help you find a nice boyfriend to settle down with,"

"Who needs men?" Mikasa snorted. "I certainly don't,"

"Did you have another fight with Eren? You know I hate it when you guys fight," Annie groaned, skirting the treadmill which easily took up a quarter of the room's sparse space.

"Sure, that's because you never know to side with your best friend, or with your boyfriend." Sasha pointed out, a laugh evident in her voice.

"Well, you're lucky that Armin always plays nice with everyone he meets," Annie rolled her eyes. "

What did you two fight about now, anyway?" She turned to Mikasa.

"The school's local café is hiring, and I wanted to take up a position there to earn some money. He doesn't want me to; he wants me to focus on my studies and make sure I don't lose my scholarship,"

"Somehow, I don't see you losing your scholarship even if you take up ten more jobs and become a circus clown at the same time," Annie snorted.

"Well, maybe he's really concerned!" Sasha suggested. "You know, a full ride and a monthly allowance isn't anything to laugh at!"

"Yeah, but you'd think he'd have more faith in me to manage my time properly, and to know my limits," Mikasa shot back. "I know I can work and keep my grades up at the same time; I don't know why he refuses to back down over this,"

Sasha opened her mouth to say something, but was drowned out by Annie's voice. "Clearly," she said, "Ackerman has made her mind up about this and frankly if she says she can handle it, then she can handle it. So we're going to drop this matter now. What'd you come in here for, Braus? Shouldn't you be in your own dorm room trying to cosy up with your own roommate?"

"Aw, you don't have to be so harsh," Sasha pouted. Though she, Eren, Armin and Mikasa had entered the college together, she and Mikasa hadn't been put in the same dorm room. Instead, Mikasa was paired up with Annie, who had been more than a little prickly at first. After a while, though, the two had gotten to know each other better, and while Annie was fast friends with the four of them now, she displayed a fiercer loyalty to Mikasa than to anyone else—even Eren. Sasha, on the other hand, had gotten paired with a girl who clearly wanted to major in 'Partying', and had gotten expelled from the school for various reasons at the end of the previous year. Her new roommate, Ymir, was sullen and uncooperative, much unlike Annie's own prickly and brash attitude at the start of the previous year.

"Ymir's out—I barely even see her in the dorm at all—and I wanted to see if you guys wanted some dinner,"

"It's four in the afternoon, but I'm not averse to an early dinner," Mikasa said, not attempting the remove herself from the sofa.

"Annie?"

"Let me go shower first," Annie said, wrinkling her nose, and disappearing out of the door.

"I'll check with the guys and see if they want dinner, too!" Sasha beamed, tapping away at her cellphone eagerly, before turning to Mikasa, her face falling a little. "Unless—you don't want Eren there?" Eren and Mikasa were much closer as adopted siblings than a normal pair of siblings usually were, but it also meant that when they were fighting, the tension was far more palpable than usual.

"It's fine," Mikasa said. "Don't let this spoil your evening,"

"No," Sasha decided, setting her phone down. "We'll make it a girls' night! Or evening—whichever,"

Mikasa shot her friend a vague, lazy smile. "Let's go down to the café for dinner—the food is pretty good and you'll see how good the working environment is,"

"I'm not the one you have to convince," Sasha grinned. "But alright! I've heard a lot about it, but somehow have never gone there before,"

"Mmm," Mikasa hummed in a non-committal manner. "Wake me up when Annie comes back; we'll go then,"

"I don't think you should sleep—she usually doesn't take very long in the shower. Mikasa—Mikasa?" But Mikasa had already fallen asleep on the sofa, leaving Sasha to huff and settle back to wait for Annie to return.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** In celebration of me getting into university, and getting a future, here's an early update for y'all! It's only one day, but it counts. I know the chapters are short, but it just seems really natural for me to end them there. I'm toying with the idea of doing away with the whole weekly update thing to make up for the length of it but I doubt I can sustain it because I haven't really finished it yet. But we'll see how it goes!

**Disclaimer:** However (un)fortunately, I don't own SnK

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The café Mikasa led Annie and Sasha to was a literal hole in the wall. It looked like a bulldozer had smashed its way into the yellow bricked building, and then covered up most of the extensive damage with a glass window and a door. There were wide cracks snaking out from the door, and various plants and insects had made their home there.

"I'm starting to understand why Eren doesn't want you working here," Annie muttered, looking at the café with trepidation.

"Shut up. It's charming," Mikasa said, pulling the glass door open. "It adds to the history of the building,"

"It looks like there was some sort of bank heist here that went horribly wrong," Annie remarked, following her friend into the shop.

"You know, that's exactly what happened," Mikasa said with a grim cheerfulness, sitting herself down in a booth in the most inconspicuous part of the café.

"If you don't want to be noticed," Annie said wryly, "Why would you want to work as a waitress?"

"If you haven't yet noticed, the café isn't exactly brimming with people—and most of the people who come to this café are visitors to the school," she nodded towards a group of elderly gentlemen whom they'd never seen before. "And anyway, if they do want to harass me, I have my ways of dealing with them,"

"Maybe," Sasha said, "But if you do start working here, word's going to get out to the student population and this place will be flooded in no time,"

"Sasha, I've been coming here for the past few weeks to study. Trust me, if word hasn't got out that I've been coming here on a regular basis, then word's not going to get out that I work here,"

"If you say so," Sasha said, looking doubtful, but unwilling to push the matter further.

"What's good here?" Annie asked, pulling a slightly sticky menu towards her with a face, before flipping it open.

"Everything tastes pretty good—I've gone through their entire menu. They don't really have a large selection of food," Mikasa reported.

"Hmm." Annie cast a critical eye over the menu, before slapping it shut.

"Sasha, are you done?"

"Give me a while more," Sasha grumbled, slapping Annie's hand away from her copy of the menu. "Everything just looks really good!"

Just then, the door of the café opened, letting in a gust of wind along with a hunched figure in a dark green coat.

"Isn't that Rivaille?" Sasha asked, peering closely at the figure. Rivaille was a hugely famous figure on campus—he was the subject of a million and one rumours, both within his faculty and outside of it. Throughout all the different versions of the Truth About Levi Rivaille, there seemed to be a few points of consensus amongst the student body. One: He was French. That much was undisputable. Two: He always wore a cravat wherever he went—whether he was going to class, or out of the campus, or even to the occasional party he showed up at. Three: He was both mentally and physically adept, having won multiple awards and medals for the college in his three years there. Four: He happened to stay at the Plexus Dorm—in the same one as Eren and Armin, right next to the Porter's Dorm where they stayed.

"He seems a bit... short," Annie said.

"You're one to talk,"

Rivaille cast a disparaging eye over the café, glancing over the spot where the three girls sat, before taking his seat in another corner of the room and producing his books from within his green coat.

"Are you ready to order?" Mikasa broke into Annie and Sasha's revel, with a deadpan expression. Both Sasha and Annie let out non-committal grunts, both still eyeing Rivaille from their positions. "

You have boyfriends," Mikasa hissed at them as she flagged a waiter down. "Stop staring at him,"

"Hello," a waiter drawled, holding a notepad and a pen poised in place. "May I take your orders, please?"

"Reiner?" Annie asked, looking more than a little surprised.

"Annie?" The waiter responded, taking his eyes off his notepad. "Hey, it is you!"

"I didn't know you came here," Annie said with a slight smile on her face. Then, turning to Mikasa and Sasha, she introduced them. "This is Reiner; one of my childhood friends. We lost touch after we hit twelve, and I haven't heard from him since. Reiner, these are my friends Mikasa and Sasha,"

"You have friends, huh," Reiner smirked. "You know," he looked at the other two, "When we were kids, she'd refuse to associate with any of the kids on the playground. It took us years before we could even talk to her without getting hit in the face."

"Shut up." Reiner just grinned at her. "You know, Bert's working here, too,"

"Really? So I was the only one who lost contact with you?"

"Sure," Reiner shrugged. "We weren't the ones who had to maintain a reputation of being an ice queen in school. Anyway, if you guys order now, I can get Bert here while I deliver your orders to the kitchen,"

They had just finished ordering their food, with Reiner scribbling it down in illegible handwriting, when an irritable throat was cleared. Reiner turned to find Rivaille looking over with a deadpan expression, waiting to order his food.

"I'll bring your food by later," Reiner told them, before rushing over to Rivaille's table.

"That's rude," Sasha frowned. "I wouldn't have thought he was the type to do that."

"We were holding Reiner up," Mikasa pointed out, leaning back in the booth. "So, ice queen, huh, Annie? Why am I not surprised?"

Annie rolled her eyes at her friends. "You were probably more surprised at the 'friends' part,"

"I know I was," a boy appeared behind Mikasa, all smiles and lanky limbs. He passed out glasses of water to the three of them before sliding easily into the seat next to Annie. "You know, Reiner and I used to approach her every day at the playground trying to make friends, but she'd just punch us when no adults were looking. We only got her to start talking to us two years later after we beat up this guy who was picking on one of the girls,"

"Mikasa, Sasha, this is Bertholdt," Annie rolled her eyes. "Bert, Annie and Mikasa,"

"I know," Bert said. "I've heard plenty about Mikasa Ackerman over the past year. You come in here a lot, don't you?" He addressed her directly. "You know, between you and Rivaille, you're going to get the entire student population in here and jack up the popularity rating of this place,"

"Rivaille?" Sasha asked, taking a sip of water.

"Sure, he comes in here a lot." Bert shrugged easily. "Just as much as Mikasa. But Reiner and I, we keep our noses out of other peoples' business, so don't worry, we won't be telling anyone," he dropped her an exaggerated wink.

"Good, because if you do, I'm going to beat the hell out of you guys," Annie said, levelling a glare on him.

"Still just as violent," Bert laughed. "So what are you studying now?"

"Don't you have to get to work?" Annie retorted. "I'm on break now," he explained. "I'm allowed to take a break, you know. They're not slave drivers here,"

"Mikasa's thinking of getting a job here," Sasha suddenly said. "What's it like working here?"

"Really? Well, as you can see, it's not very crowded. In fact, with three booths being taken up, it's a veritable party. Usually it's just you and Rivaille, there," he nodded his head at the other booth. "I don't know why management wants to hire someone else, but if you want to work here, it's almost like free money. If the day is slow—which it usually is—then you can take out your books and start studying, too. Management doesn't mind what you do as long as all the customers are serviced,"

"Sounds great," Mikasa smiled. "I definitely think I'll send in an application form,"

"Then you've got the job," Bert shrugged. "They seem to place all their trust in their employees because they left the decisions up to us since we'll have to work with the new one. Marco—the other kitchen boy—doesn't really care, and if you're friends with Annie you can probably handle anything the customers can throw at you. Just come straight over tomorrow after your last class and we can work out a schedule," he said, ignoring Annie's glower in his direction.

"Yeah, OK, thanks," Mikasa said, just as Reiner sailed up to them and piling the dishes on their table before moving on to Rivaille's.

"Enjoy your evening, ladies," Bert said, getting up from the booth. "I've got to get back to the kitchen now so that Marco can have his daily smoke."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** hello everyone; you'll be glad to know (I hope for all the good reasons) that I'm currently working on the last chapter of in progress. Once I'm done with it I'll be uploading the rest of the chapters on that very day so yay :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own SnK

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The next day, Mikasa showed up at the café after classes, with Eren doggedly tagging along behind her. He hadn't been too happy when Mikasa had announced that she had gotten the job, but recognized that she was determined to go ahead with it. In spite of Annie's vouching of the café, though, he'd insisted on coming along with Mikasa to find out more about the job, something which Mikasa gladly acquiesced to. She hated it when she and Eren fought about anything, and making up always felt good.

Eren's facial expression, upon seeing the shop front, was eerily similar to Annie's disdain the previous evening. "Are you sure you want to work here?"

"Yes," Mikasa said firmly, already opening the door and stepping inside.

"Hi!" Reiner came out from behind the counter to greet her. "Bert said you'd be dropping by today; do you mind waiting for a few minutes for him to get here? It'll be easier if we looked at everyone's schedule at the same time,"

"Sure," Mikasa agreed. "Reiner, this is Eren, my adopted brother,"

"Hi," Reiner smiled. Eren cheerfully returned the gesture, and promptly started to quiz Reiner on the café, the job, and what the customers were like.

Mikasa sighed and sat down in a booth, pulling Eren down to sit with her as he continued to assault Reiner with questions. After ten minutes or so, the door swung open and admitted Bert, who was struggling with a pile of books.

"Sorry," he gasped, dumping them all over the counter. "I tried to come as fast as I could—the professor held us back—something about us not taking things seriously enough—didn't even have the time to pack, I ran all the way here,"

"Don't worry about it," Reiner said, clapping his friend on the back. "Bert, this is Mikasa's adopted brother Eren. I'll go get Marco—it's your turn to field his questions for a while," then he promptly disappeared behind the swinging doors to the kitchen.

"Eren," Mikasa turned to him. "I think I can handle it from here. Don't you have to go back and get ready for your date?"

"Oh!" He fumbled, hurriedly grasping his bag. "Right. Call me if anything happens, Mikasa!" He called behind him as he ran out of the café, quickly disappearing round the corner.

"So, what do you major in?" Bert asked, sliding into the seat opposite Mikasa just as Reiner emerged with whom she could only surmise was Marco.

"Literature,"

"Arts, huh?" Reiner let out a low whistle as he slid into place next to Bert, leaving Marco to take the recently vacated spot next to Mikasa. "We're all Physics and Engineering people here, ourselves. Mikasa, this is Marco, Marco, Mikasa. She's the new server," he added.

"On behalf of management," Marco said, "Let me welcome you with a small gift." He produced a basket of fries out of nowhere and placed it in the middle of the table. "Eat up," he said. "It's on me,"

The next hour was spent finalising a new schedule for the café. Since Mikasa finished her classes the earliest on Mondays and Thursdays, she would go to the café first to unlock it and get everything ready. Marco and Bert would have to rush over right after classes to open up the café, since they were the kitchen boys. On Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays, Reiner would get everything ready, while Mikasa could take her time to get to the café after classes. The café was closed on weekends, which meant that they didn't have to come in at all.

"There isn't really a fixed schedule for the opening hours of the café," Reiner said. "If there are no customers, and all of us are beat, we'd end up closing up early. Sometimes we end up staying here the whole night if we have to. "

"One of the reasons why there are so few customers," Bert grinned. "You can never predict when the café is open, unless you know one of us personally,"

"Honestly, I'm surprised this place is still in business," Marco snorted.

"If you want a day off, just tell us at least three days in advance so we can work something out—as long as there's at least one server and one kitchen boy here at all times we're good to go. But you'll have to work at least two thirds of the month to be able to get your full pay," Bert warned, ignoring Marco's dig at the café.

"Come on, Mikasa, I'll show you around the place a bit." Reiner stood up, pulling her along with him as Bert and Marco took a slow retreat back into the kitchens.

"This is the counter—we'll make the drinks here; it's not the kitchen's work to do that. They just prepare the food. I'll show you how to work everything later. Cakes are displayed here—they're only sold on Mondays—and this is the cash register. Plates and cups are in these cupboards—"

Reiner was interrupted by the opening of the door, whereupon Rivaille stepped in and took a seat in the booth Mikasa had taken just yesterday.

"Oh," she said.

"Yeah, you've been taking up his booth for the past couple of weeks," Reiner said, a grin slowly spreading on his face. "We thought you knew, so we didn't say anything. Anyway, it's your first day here, so just take it easy and follow me around,"

He walked up to Rivaille, Mikasa tracing his steps behind him. "Hello, may I take your orders please?"

"One green tea, and a shortbread." Rivaille said, his words just as cutting and as precise as his appearance, eyes barely glancing at Mikasa behind Reiner.

"I'll be right back with your order," Reiner said, gesturing at Mikasa to follow him back to the counter.

"Take out a plate and a cup from the cupboards," he instructed, pulling open two drawers and taking out a box of tea bags and shortbread cookies. He put a teabag in the cup and filled it with hot water, showing her how to operate the machine, and started to arrange the cookies on the plate. "We leave the teabags in the cups here, so that if customers want to fill up their cup again it's on the house. Don't tell them that refills are free here, though—wait for them to ask. There is no specific arrangement of cookies on the plate, as long as you make sure there are eight of them on it," he explained.

He started off to Rivaille's table again, laying the plate and cup down on the table amongst the books and papers which had already filled it, then left without another word. "Some customers like to talk to you, and some don't," he explained. "Generally, the rule is to not talk to them unless they start talking to you first,"

"Okay," Mikasa said, her eyes scanning over the different appliances at the counter.

Reiner took in her poker face, unable to tell if she was daunted by the different machines and the prospect of working here. "Why don't you go into the kitchen for some lunch first? I'll cover the café for a while. Just go in there and tell them what you want to eat—as long as it's on the menu—and they'll make it for you. When you're done, come back out and I'll teach you how to use the rest of the stuff,"

"Okay," she said again, disappearing into the kitchen through the blue swinging doors.

Inside, the kitchen comprised of a blue tiled floor, with painted blue walls over shiny industrial steel tables and pots and pans adorning the walls. Marco and Bert were seated at a table in the middle of the room, poring over books and scale drawings, taking down fastidious notes from their textbooks.

"Hey. Lunch?" Bert asked, when he caught sight of Mikasa in the doorway.

She nodded, taking a seat at the table when Marco gestured to it. She ate quietly and quickly when a plate was put down in front of her, answering their questions but not volunteering any of her own. As soon as she was finished, the plate was whisked away for them to wash in the sink, and she was ushered back out to the main room of the café to learn the different appliances and to get used to them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own SnK

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The remains of the week flew by fairly quickly amidst all the classes and shifts at the café that Mikasa had to contend with. Once she had adapted to it, if she was being honest, the additional job didn't really provide much of an extra challenge to her keeping up of her grades. Part of it was probably due to the strict curfew of her dorm—unless you were back by twelve midnight from Monday to Thursday, you were locked out of it until the next day. As a result, they locked up at eleven, giving her ample time to make her way back to her dorm, or if they had to stay open for a longer period of time, promised to allow her to leave early. The most draining part of it, she thought, was the small talk she had to endure with both customers and her co-workers. While she didn't mind chatting with others, it became a little off-putting to having to continuously answer a stream of questions as she tried to read up on her texts.

She had developed a routine with Reiner; they would alternate their shifts in the shop, with one of them staying in the main room of the café to take care of the customers, and the other could go into the kitchen to study. Sometimes he'd stay in the front room with her for a while, idly chatting until a customer called out, but she never stayed behind to talk. While the job wasn't mentally draining, maintaining her grades was still a priority to her. It was a good thing, though, that they were slowly learning not to talk to her when her books were out—she was much more efficient and effective in her studies then, and would often appear at the end of the two hours to be much calmer and cheerful than when she had to take on all their questions and her books. She also became much more open on days when she was left alone to study, and would participate more in the conversations when wiping down the café and locking up.

In those three days, too, she had never once served Rivaille. Coincidentally, he always came in when she was in the kitchen, studying, and always left when she was tucked away in the back as well. So whenever Sasha—and occasionally Annie—interrogated her about the senior, she didn't have much to offer about him. All she knew about him was that he turned up every weekday, sat in the same booth, ordered green tea and a plate of shortbread, then would study for five hours straight before leaving. It was always exactly five hours—Reiner and Bert had timed him for a week in the past. Both girls thought it was slightly odd that he was so precise in his motions, but Mikasa hadn't found it strange at all. She thought that it matched up to the crisp and sharp image he always projected both at the café and in the strange rumours floating around about him. She herself thrived under a strict schedule, and felt that she wasn't in any position to judge him for it.

On Friday, just as they were about to go their separate ways after locking up, Reiner reminded them to show up on time on Sunday at the café, eyeing Marco pointedly.

"Sunday?" Mikasa asked, slightly confused.

"Oh, did I forget to tell you? You know how we sell cakes on Monday, right? Well, we prepare them on Sunday so they're still fresh. Because our kitchen boys are incompetent, we servers need to show up to help them out as well," Reiner dropped a sly wink at her, dodging the sharp elbow digs of both Marco and Bert. "Just come by around four on Sunday; we'll be out by eight. We don't usually prepare a lot, since hardly anyone comes in at all. On Monday, after work, we can bring back whatever cakes we have left,"

"Okay." She gave a brief nod.

"See you on Sunday!" The boys called, turning left back to their dorm as she peeled off to the right. She smiled and waved back at them before turning and walking down the concrete path, the shrubs lining it lit up with bright, warm orange lamps.

It was a nice night to walk home; the sky was clear and if you squinted a bit and tilted your head to the perfect angle, there were one or two stars twinkling in the night sky. She'd read somewhere that not all the lights in the sky were stars; if the light was steady and strong, it was a satellite, but if it flashed intermittently, then it was a star. Maybe it was stupid, but when she'd first found out, she'd felt betrayed—how all the stars in the night sky weren't actually stars, but were a result of some human fabrication. Over time, though, she had managed to figure out how to different stars from satellites, and she thought about how at least there would always be a way to tell the difference between the stars and their fake counterparts.

She took the long route home, skipping all the shortcuts between buildings and through grass patches that she took on weeknights, instead favouring the long winding paths and brightly lit areas. It was a good night for rumination and reflection, and she thought about how it was a good decision to have taken up the job after all, and that she was actually warming up to her three new co-workers. She genuinely enjoyed spending time with them and talking to them (as long as they weren't interrupting her studies), and they were trustworthy, if the continuous lack of customers was anything to go by.

As she walked along the path, her feet tapping out a staunch rhythm on the ground, she began to feel a sneaking suspicion that someone was following her. No—there were too many footsteps. She began to listen more intently, walking with a quicker, lighter step. A group of people—males—she estimated that there were about three to five of them. She turned suddenly, watching them dive clumsily behind a straggly line of bushes, giggling amongst themselves, their shadows fading and blending into the dark ground behind the pool of light. Mikasa turned back and started walking faster, pulling her coat around her tightly, calculating her chances of winning the fight.

She was highly trained in Karate, and could probably take them down, but then again there wasn't much room on the narrow path to fight properly. Besides, she'd heard that inebriated idiots were, while clumsier than usual, were far stronger as well, and she didn't particularly feel like putting that theory to the test.

She continued walking at a brisk pace, wanting to get more and more distance between herself and her potential attackers, but the faster she walked, the rowdier they became behind her. She could hear them giggling and what they clearly thought was whispering to one another, could hear them thumping along behind her. Not usually one to get fazed, she was now quite alarmed, as she knew she was still quite a distance away from her dorm and might not be able to fend them off if they did decide to spring on her.

They started to call at her from the back: inane harassment, rowdy laughs and catcalls. It was hard to believe that only five boys were making so much noise—and that no one was around to hear it, and to stop them. Luckily, she heard them coming before she felt them. She turned quickly with an elbow out, just in time to catch one of them in the stomach, whereupon he fell upon one of his friends with a grunt. The other three lumbered up to her in haste, and even as she kicked and punched and dodged, she knew she wouldn't be able to keep it up for much longer—definitely not long enough to tire them out and leave them gasping on the ground. In spite of the continued knocks, the guys didn't seem to mind it at all, and simply got back up from the ground and came rushing at her again. It seemed like being inebriated not only made you stronger, but impervious to pain as well.

Just as she was contemplating making a run for it, a leg flashed out of nowhere and knocked someone else to the ground. It didn't take too long for her to realise that this figure, whoever he or she was, was on her side, and between the two of them the five drunks were quickly put out of commission.

"Thanks," she mumbled, already turning away back to her dorm.

"You shouldn't be walking out here at this time of the night," he told her, voice crisp in the cold night air. She paused, vaguely recognizing that voice, but unable to place it. Then she turned, looking at him coolly in the eye.

It was Rivaille, in his dark green coat as usual, standing over one of the boys they'd knocked to the ground previously. Mikasa kept her face expressionless, making sure to not let her surprise show on her face. "Thanks for the tip," she replied, before turning back.

Oddly, Rivaille seemed to take her response as permission to fall into step next to her, walking with her as she continued down the path to her dorm. "Shouldn't you know not to come by here already, Mikasa Ackerman?"

She glared at him. While she knew the student body was prone to gossip about her, most of them were polite enough to make it a point to keep that particular fact from her. Besides, she'd thought that out of all the seniors, Rivaille would be one who wouldn't be bothered about gossip around the campus. "I don't usually come by here, Rivaille. Or did you miss that on the weekly gossip spreadsheet?"

"I do have a first name; it's only polite to use it. Which way do you take when you go back to your dorm, then?"

"It's only polite if a) I know it, and b) if we were acquaintances of some sort, which we aren't. And asking for my usual routes is betraying some latent stalking tendencies in you, so pardon if I don't feel comfortable telling you what they are."

"It's Levi. And I did just fight off some burly drunks for you, so I'd consider us acquaintances now, at least," he pointed out, his tone still cool and detached. "And I happen to stay in the dorm right next to yours, so learning of different, quicker routes, would be useful to me,"

Mikasa frowned, staring straight ahead and realising she probably owed him more gratitude than what she had shown him previously. "Thanks," she said grudgingly. "For your help back there,"

"It's no problem," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips.

The Porter Dorm loomed up before them, and she barely paused before turning in to the left while he continued on straight.

"See you on Monday, Mikasa Ackerman," he told her, strolling away under the orange light of the lamps. She nodded once, briefly, and then turned into the cool white interior of the dorms.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own SnK

* * *

Saturday morning found Annie looming over Mikasa's bed, waiting for her to wake up for their usual run.

"Wake up." It wasn't a request; it was more like a terse command, accompanied by a slight kick to the bed.

Mikasa groaned and opened her eyes, wincing at the light that Annie was holding to her face. "Put that thing away; I'm awake,"

"Good." Annie said, flicking the room lights on and putting the flashlight down. "Then let's go."

Mikasa rolled out of bed and put her hair up in a messy ponytail, before grabbing her phone and following Annie out. The two of them had gotten into a habit of getting up at 4 in the morning to run for three solid hours before making their way back to the dorm. They went to bed on Fridays in their running attire, so that the only thing they had to do when they woke up was to make themselves look presentable before leaving.

They stretched outside the building in silence, Mikasa still rubbing sleep from her eyes occasionally, and Annie completely focused on her movements. When they were ready, they ran at their own pace, often outstripping one another at different points in their run. At the end of three hours, though, they usually ended up jogging slowly together back to their dorm before slowing down to a walk.

They got back to their room at 7 in the morning, took a quick shower, before heading out to the dining hall to meet Sasha for breakfast, where she was often already eating before them. Today was no different; her plate was already half-empty by the time they arrived.

"Sorry," she said, smiling at them, "But the food looked really good, and I was really hungry,"

Annie rolled her eyes, taking a seat and pulling her own food towards her. "Since when are you not? You're lucky that they provide a buffet for every meal,"

"The only reason why I chose this dorm, actually," Sasha said in all seriousness, pausing in her attempt to inhale the rest of the food on her plate. "So what's on everybody's agenda today?"

"Studying," Annie and Mikasa said at the same time, forking eggs into their mouths slowly.

Sasha sighed. "Sounds fun,"

"You could come to the library and study with us," Mikasa coaxed. The library was a lovely place to go to study, with hardwood flooring and shelves, and great huge tomes on every subject you could ever want to know more about.

Annie wrinkled her nose. "I'm not going to the library." Unfortunately, it seemed that out of all her friends, Mikasa was the only one who enjoyed spending time in the library. Eren had deemed it too quiet, Sasha was put out by the ban on food in the building, Armin had gone through most of the books before, and Annie thought it was too oppressive. As a result, Mikasa too rarely went into the library as her friends were always suggesting some other place to study instead. On the rare occasion that no one was pressing for her attention, though, she enjoyed going into the library to study, or to read.

"You can bring drinks in, just not solid food," Mikasa tried again. Sasha's dread of studying was well-known to everyone, and frankly everyone had been surprised that she'd done well enough to make it into the college. It was thus that her friends had to continually try to encourage her to study, though they failed to do so half the time. She'd somehow managed to keep her grades up, which was an impressive feat in itself, but sometimes they still worried about her.

"Hmm," Sasha replied non-committedly, swallowing her last forkful of food on her third plate of breakfast. "Are you guys done?"

Mikasa and Annie stood, drawing up their empty plates with them as they followed Sasha to the plate-return section, then went back up to their dorm.

"Sasha, why are you following us?" Mikasa finally asked as she turned the corner leading to her room.

"You asked me to study with you?" Sasha offered.

"Yes, but don't you need to go get your books?"

"What does it matter?" Annie responded. "She can just borrow some of your books and stare at them blankly for a while,"

"Yeah, and besides—" Sasha added, halting in front of Annie and Mikasa's room door, then throwing it open with a loud flourish. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

The door flew open with a generous crash, and Eren and Armin belatedly sprang up from their crouching positions behind the beds, spraying confetti and flecks of glitter overhead.

"Oh," Mikasa said, looking at the spectacle before her, not knowing how to respond to it. Behind her, Annie gave an irritable sigh before pushing her into the room and collapsing on the sofa.

"Were you surprised?" Eren asked, excitedly crowding Mikasa. "You were, weren't you? Didn't expect it, huh? Annie said we probably shouldn't do it, but you've got to admit that this was a really good idea!"

Mikasa smiled; it was hard not to get carried away by Eren's enthusiasm, even if she thought it was a little over the top. "Yeah, it was. Thanks, guys,"

"We thought we'd do this because we hardly see you around anymore ever since you got that job," Armin said, carefully dusting her bed free of any specks of glitter or confetti before sitting down on it.

"I've only worked for three days, and besides, you see me every day at lunch," she responded. "Anyway, you guys can always come by to the café after classes if you miss me so much,"

"It's so far away," Sasha groaned. "But how's work? Do you have to work late every night?"

"Is it safe when you walk home?" Armin added, remembering her mention that she usually left by eleven, which was, while early enough by campus standards, was still quite late in his opinion.

"It usually is, but I guess yesterday was an exception," Mikasa said. "There was a group of guys who wanted to, you know, attack me, but it was fine, I dealt with it with a little bit of help,"

"I did not hear about that," Annie said, her eyes sharp. Eren, next to her, had gone completely still, and his face was steadily growing darker and darker. "Who were they?" He demanded.

"It's fine," Mikasa quickly said, attempting to calm them down. "They were drunk, and didn't hurt me in any possible way; Rivaille stepped in before they could do anything,"

"Ooh," Sasha said, her eyes widening. "Tell us!"

Mikasa recalled her walk home the previous night over a cup of tea and some birthday cake, which they had produced from the depths of Annie's closet, and which was almost immediately devoured by Sasha once everyone else had gotten a sliver of cake. As she told them the story, she kept an eye on Eren and his girlfriend; either one of them were liable to get up and demand for revenge upon the group of boys and while it was touching, it wasn't something she wanted to happen in the immediate future, or any future at all.

"Hmm," Eren said, when she was done. "Maybe I should start walking you home every day from the café,"

"Don't be silly," Mikasa dismissed him. "It was just a fluke. Anyway, suffice to say I won't be taking that route home anymore; I'll just stick to my shortcuts through the school buildings,"

Eren seemed dissatisfied with her answer, but eventually he backed down and stopped pushing the matter.

"If it happens again, then we'll talk," Mikasa said firmly. "But I'm fully capable of defending myself, and from now onwards, I'll dial the number for the campus police and keep my finger on the 'call' button, alright? Besides, I don't always leave at the same time, and I don't want to inconvenience any of you,"

The conversations then turned to lighter, more idle topics, about courses and classes and professors and if Mikasa really liked the gifts they had gotten her.

Sasha had given her a gift voucher to a book store just outside campus, and Annie had gotten her a new pillowcase set "because yours looks old and I can't imagine how you sleep on that every night." Armin had compiled a list of books which he'd thought she would like, and on top of that he had gotten a new pencil case to replace her current one which was falling apart. Eren got a red beanie to match the red muffler she still used from back when they were children; every year, he'd get something else that was red to match the muffler he had given her when they were kids. They often joked that by now, Mikasa probably had enough birthdays to have a complete red outfit (which she did, but it wasn't like she made an effort to announce it to the whole world.)

The rest of the day passed in a companionable fashion, the five of them just gathered in Mikasa and Annie's room, talking and laughing late into the night.

That was why, on Sunday, Mikasa felt the urge to wake up much earlier than usual at six in the morning and go down to the school library to study, to make up for the complete lack of it the previous day. She crept out of the room past a sleeping Annie, leaving and note to let the girl know where she had gone, before taking a quick breakfast in the hall and hurrying down to the library. She knew she had a time constraint; she had to finish the work that was assigned to her by today, and she still had to go down to the café at 4 to help out with the cakes. And yet, she didn't regret spending the entirety of her Saturday with her friends; it had been a while since they'd gotten together to just talk.

Eight hours later, Mikasa had a crick in her neck and had finally finished all her work, and finished reading up on her classes. She was starving, but a quick glance at her watch told her that she only had two more hours before she had to go to the café, and she figured that she might as well grab something on the way there, or get some food from the café itself.

After an hour and a half more of reading, she decided that she had had enough, and gathered up her books and piled them into her bag, ready to leave the library in search of some sustenance. As she was passing by the door on her way out, she accidentally bumped into someone, spilling their books all over the floor.

"I'm so sorry," she gasped, hurrying to pick up all the books.

"It's alright," the other person said, smiling at her and adjusting her own glasses. "Accidents happen, after all,"

"Oi," someone called down from above them, sounding very much like Rivaille. "Four-eyes. Hurry up."

"Sorry, he's a bit rude," the other girl said as she gathered the last of her books. "Thanks for the help!" She grinned at Mikasa, before running ahead and meeting Rivaille at the door, who scoffed and let her go in before him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I don't own SnK

* * *

Monday started out uneventful, and continued that way, much to Mikasa's relief. She enjoyed moving from class to class in a precise manner, without having any sudden interruptions or altercations between Eren and someone else that she had to settle. After classes, she packed quickly and was, as always, the first one out of the door, even before the professor who stayed back to entertain questions.

When she got to the front of the café, she worked briskly to unlock the door, got in, and then locked it up again. She flicked the lights on from a small hidden compartment in the wall, before heading down to the counter to get the cloth to wipe the tables down again. She had just flicked the appliances near the counter on when she heard a sort of desperate hammering at the glass door. She looked over to see Marco standing outside, still banging away.

She crossed the room quickly to open the door, where he fell into the café and let the door shut behind him.

"Sorry—I just saw some guys whom I owe money too and I didn't bring it out with me today and I really _really_ don't want to get into it with them," he said, brushing his hair back with a sweep of his hand.

"Right," Mikasa said, arching an eyebrow.

"Don't worry; no one knows I work here, so they won't be coming in," he said, before heading back into the kitchen. "You can open up shop now, by the way,"

Mikasa turned the sign in the window so that "we are OPEN" was now facing outwards, and the outside was closed off to the employees until they locked up for the night.

No one came in for the next two hours, excepting Reiner and Bert who chased Mikasa into the kitchen for her lunch while Reiner took over the front of the shop for the next couple of hours. When she re-emerged from the back room, Rivaille was already in his usual booth, plate and cup in front of him. Reiner was lounging on a stool by the cashier, a blank look in his eyes as he looked over the almost-empty shop.

"I honestly feel like this café would close down at any time," he told her when he noticed her by his side. "Doesn't this seem hopeless to you?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Since when were you Mr. Glass Half-Empty? Did Christa reject you again?" Bert had filled her in on Reiner's ongoing obsession with Christa Lenz, a pretty petite girl who took Engineering alongside the two friends. Reiner had attempted to ask Christa out at least 42 times, according to Bert, and had been rejected by her all of the 11 times which he had succeeded. At this point, everyone else was less than sympathetic towards Reiner in this issue, because getting rejected 11 times didn't mean anything except the fact that she wasn't the least interested in you, thank you very much.

Reiner heaved a sigh, before sliding off the stool dejectedly. "Maybe I should just give up, right?"

"One of these days," she told him in all seriousness, "You're going to actually mean it,"

Reiner just sighed and retreated into the kitchen, leaving Mikasa to perch on the recently vacated stool. The rest of her shift passed in sections of studying, staring out vacantly over the mostly empty café, and occasionally refilling Rivaille's tea. He barely looked up from his books when she came over, and the only thing he ever said was a simple "Thank you." —certainly nothing to suggest that they had met before.

When she was bored, she found herself studying Rivaille from her place on the counter. His hair was styled in an undercut, and he was wearing his trademark white cravat, as usual. His movements were precise and calculated; superfluous motions did not suit him at all. Everything on the table, too, were organized into neat piles that sat close to each other, with what seemed like a uniform width of space on all sides. His studying was as methodical as she'd ever seen it—moving from one subject of interest to another without overlap.

When Reiner came back out for his last shift, he eyed Rivaille strangely. "It's way past his usual 5 hours of study," he told Mikasa. "I wonder what he's still doing here,"

"Well, he's getting his check now," she pointed out. "Do you want me to do it before I leave?"

"No, it's okay. I've been getting his check for the past year or so; any changes in his schedule and he might die of a heart attack," Reiner said.

Hearing that, Mikasa was unable to repress a smile. Clearly she had not been the only one to notice his fastidious following of a schedule he seemed to have memorised already. "Alright then, I'll go into the back and see if they need help before I leave," she agreed.

When she emerged from the kitchen after bidding goodbye to the other two, Rivaille was already gone and Reiner was left out in the front room alone except for an elderly couple sipping on the last vestiges of their tea.

"I'll be going off first," she told him.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow," he said, wiping down the counter unnecessarily.

She left the café quickly, mentally deciding what she had to do first when she got back to her dorm. Suddenly, she noticed a figure peeling itself off the wall of the side of the building, and without thinking, dropped into a defensive stance.

"It's just me," Rivaille said, stepping into the light and catching hold of one of her hands about to fly into his face.

"Oh. Sorry, I'm just a little touchy after last Friday. What are you doing here?" She let go of her position, and started to walk.

He fell into step next to her, adjusting his speed to match hers. "Walking home, of course,"

"You don't have to walk me back, you know,"

"I know."

A silence stretched out between them.

"If you're uncomfortable with my presence, you can just tell me," he offered.

"No, it's fine," her brow furrowed. She wasn't sure why he was doing this, but she wasn't going to pass up the additional security he gave.

They walked back to the dorms in a companionable silence, with Rivaille following Mikasa through the backs of buildings and over grasses patches, with only the occasional—no, more than occasional—_tch_ of annoyance when the mud got onto his pristine black shoes.

"It's just mud; it won't even show on your shoes," she finally said.

"It's disgusting," he replied. "Just because no one else can see it doesn't mean it's not there,"

"You could have just taken the concrete path back,"

"Yes, I could have." He didn't elaborate more on that point after that, and they walked on in silence for a while more, before they stepped onto yet another grass patch, prompting a _tch_ of disapproval from him again.

Mikasa was more than a little relieved when she saw her dorm up in the distance—walking with Rivaille wasn't as bad as she had been expecting; it would even have been nice if not for his constant noises of disapproval. She disliked mud as much as the next person, but clearly his feelings for mud went beyond dislike to complete and utter disdain.

"See you tomorrow," he said tonelessly, before continuing down the blessed concrete path which they'd gotten onto a few minutes before.

She looked after him thoughtfully for a while, before shaking her head to dispel all thoughts of him and continued on into the dorm. What he did didn't really concern her, after all, and if he wanted to walk her home, then she was, as far as she was concerned, only benefitting from it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I don't own SnK

* * *

The next few weeks passed by in the same fashion. She'd go to classes, then go to the café, and when it was over she'd walk home with Rivaille, who had taken to studying in the café until a few minutes before 11, and would wait around outside for her for them to walk home together.

On the second day, he'd told her to follow him instead, bringing her along a route that was paved out the whole way with concrete. It was just as quick as the one she had taken, but was "more civilised", in Rivaille's words. She'd rolled her eyes and grumbled, but since then they'd taken that path back to the dorms, occasionally talking about classes but spending most of the walks in a companionable silence.

On a warm March night though, before she left, Reiner beckoned her over to the counter.

"Hey, I'm really sorry to spring this on you, but I've got to leave earlier tomorrow for a group project, then I've got to study for this really big test coming up. Do you mind taking over all the shifts for me from four onwards? I've told Bert and Marco to lock up by eleven thirty, and you can study out here at the counter if you want if it's not too busy," he told her, with a pleading look on his face.

"Sure," she said, shrugging.

"Thanks so much!" His face cleared immediately, and he grinned at her. "I knew there was a reason why I let you go at eleven every night,"

"You mean other than the fact that my dorm has a curfew and yours doesn't?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Apart from that, obviously,"

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," she told him, waving at him before leaving the café.

As she started out on the now familiar path, Rivaille pulled himself off the wall he was lounging upon and joined her.

"I have to stay back til eleven thirty tomorrow because Reiner's leaving early," she told him. "I'm locking up with Bert and Marco, so you don't have to stay back to walk me home,"

"Hmm," he said non-committedly. Then, "Did you know that most of the stars you see from here are actually dead?"

"What?"

"Kind of poetic, don't you think?"

"What?"

Rivaille arched an eyebrow at her and shot her a darkly amused glance. She flushed slightly, but straightened her spine, looking down at him in an almost challenging manner. She noted, again, that he was slightly shorter than she was, and dimly wondered at how he still managed to sound so condescending when speaking to others at the same time.

He seemed unperturbed by her looking down on him. "That they shine so brightly but you can only see them from afar; that how something so vibrant and alive could be so... dead,"

"The light from the stars are legacies they leave behind," Mikasa returned. "They continue to shine to leave hope for those who still look at them years later. And when they eventually fade, they do it so gradually that no one really realises—and that's the beauty of it, because they're such a strong beacon of hope, and they only slip away when no one really needs it anymore,"

They did this sometimes; when one of them came across an interesting fact, they'd bring it up and one person would look at it from a negative point of view, while the other would argue in its favour. More often than not, Rivaille took the negative point of view, leaving Mikasa to stand staunch in her belief for these things.

"But the stars—they're really dead?" She asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Mmm. You can still see them because of the light takes to travel to our little pocket of the earth. Isn't it great? All that beauty and waxed lyrics all reduced down to a line of science."

"But not all of them, right?" She pressed.

"No," he agreed simply, and they walked on.

The next day passed in the same uneventful way the previous day had, and Mikasa was hoping that it would establish a pattern that would hopefully go on indefinitely. Her classes passed by smoothly, Eren didn't blow up any more science labs, and when Reiner left the café at four in the afternoon, only Rivaille was sitting in the café, slowly sipping on his green tea and occasionally eating his shortbread. She sat by the counter and picked through her notes, leafing her way through several texts at a time

Eleven o'clock came and went, and for the first time she settled Rivaille's bill. Unsurprisingly, he didn't give off any impressions that they knew each other; his expression remained unchanged throughout the entire exchange, and the tip left behind was a prudent amount—the same amount that he always left behind for Reiner as well. His only acknowledgement of her was a slight inclination of his head before the doors of the café swung shut behind him.

She set about wiping the tables down, and had just finished when Bert and Marco emerged from the kitchen doors.

"Ready to go?"

"Sure," she agreed, grabbing her bag and following them out, hitting the lights just before stepping out and allowing the doors to close on her. She and Bert stood around, watching Marco kneel down on the concrete and try to match the key to the lock.

"This is Reiner's job, damn it," he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably on the ground as he tried every single key on the overloaded keychain.

"Mikasa, do you want to maybe go first? In case you miss curfew," Bert said, trying not to laugh at Marco's frustration.

"Alright, thanks," she shrugged. "Thanks. I'll see you all tomorrow! Marco, take it easy, or you might break the lock," she added, nudging him with the toe of her sneaker.

Just as she started to walk off on the path, Rivaille's figure slowly unfurled itself from where he had been leaning against the wall.

"Don't _do_ that," she hissed at him, trying not to draw attention to them. "I thought I told you that I was locking up today?"

"You did," he replied easily. "But your dorm is on the way."

Next to him, Mikasa let out a huff and tried to ignore Bert's hasty nudging of Marco, and his stage whispers of "Is that—is that Rivaille? With Mikasa?" and their various mumblings of disbelief.

She tried to walk faster then, to escape the scrutiny as quickly as possible, but her arm was caught by Rivaille's hand—a hand which was warmer than she thought it would be.

"Don't walk so fast," he said, before adding very reluctantly: "You know my legs are shorter than yours,"

Her eyes widened at that—partly out of amusement and partly out of despair, but she slowed down to their normal brisk pace, and walked off into the night, leaving Marco and Bert speechless behind them.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** It's finally over! Like I promised, I put everything up after finishing the last chapter. I apologize for any mistakes I might have made along the way and that I didn't catch; I promise most of it is unintentional. Eh, if the characters seem a little OOC (especially the end bit) I'm sorry! I meant to end it another way, but this one was pushing itself out of me and I think in a way it suits them better too. I actually meant to mull on it for a while more but then the new chapter came out and they're _both Ackermans_ so here I am hoping against hope it means they're all from the same clan (they do have the same eyes although it might be because of they feel like killing everyone more than half the time) and that they're not related by blood and I just felt like I had to get this out really quick to comfort myself. I've had quite a bit of fun writing this out and then analysing parts of it later (using the skills I've actually picked up from Lit classes yay) and then feeling a bit smug for writing it in the first place.

Anyway, I think it's safe to say I'm going to stay away from multi-chapter fics for a while after this; I think I'm much better suited to one-shots. Maybe one day I'll get enough confidence to tackle another multi-chapter fic again (this one was mainly stupidity with me diving in without thinking) and I'll be able to incorporate the advice I've gotten over the course of this one. It's taught me a lot, that's for sure. But thanks for sticking with me and 'in progress' in spite of the weekly updates of horribly short chapters, and all the encouragement and advice along the way; it's really really appreciated! And now that this long and rambling A/N has probably taken up like, one-third of the word count, I present the final chapter of 'in progress': right after the disclaimer.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own SnK

* * *

Mikasa spent the next day's lessons in a faint haze of worry, causing Eren and her friends to glance at her occasionally with looks of concern. She, however, was too preoccupied with thoughts of how Bert and Marco might react to her when they saw her later that day, and didn't try to reassure them of her continued sanity.

After class that day she found herself dragging her feet, unable and unwilling to go down to the café and see what awaited her there. The other students in the class cast her strange looks as they filed out before her; usually she was the first one out, and even if she wasn't, her packing was still efficient and neat, completely unlike the slow haphazard manner in which she was piling her books into her bag.

Surprisingly enough, when she got to the café, the place was as quiet as usual and Bert and Marco were nowhere to be seen, with Reiner manning the counter.

"Thanks for covering up for me last night," Bert grinned as she approached him. "I think I aced the quiz today. I hope so, at least." Then, his voice dropping dramatically as he beckoned her nearer, "So, you and Rivaille, huh?"

She sighed; she couldn't really have blamed the two of them for telling Reiner what they'd seen—she was thankful that they hadn't informed the entire student body. "We're not together. He just walks me home at night so that I'm not assaulted," she hissed back, keeping her voice low as well.

"Hmm," Reiner said, looking unconvinced but letting it go. "Well then, go get your lunch and come back out later," he told her, propelling her towards the kitchen with a small push.

"Hi, guys," she said, stepping into the kitchen and taking in the plate and cup already sitting on the table, and Bert and Marco's too-bright smiles.

"Hello," they chorused.

She sat down with a sigh and pulled the plate towards her and started to eat. Five minutes passed, then ten. Mikasa was beginning to hope that they wouldn't question her when Marco opened his mouth and broke the silence.

"So why was Rivaille waiting for you last night?"

"We're just friends," she emphasized. "We only walk home together because our dorms are literally next to each other,"

"He always leaves earlier, though," Bert pointed out. "I didn't even know you two knew each other before last night!"

"Well then, you're not very observant, are you?" Mikasa quickly covered up. Really though, there wasn't much interaction to be observed between the two. Though she had refilled his tea more than a couple of times in the café, the only time he had acknowledged their friendship was the previous night with the slightest tilt of his head. If she hadn't known that he didn't participate in superfluous actions, she wouldn't have thought anything of it, either. It was odd, and a little hurtful, if she allowed herself to be honest. She wouldn't have thought that her acquaintance would be something that anyone would want to hide from others.

She spent the rest of the two hours answering their questions as patiently as she could, reiterating the fact that they weren't together over and over again. Even when she pointedly pulled out her books and cracked them open, Bert and Marco ignored it and continued pressing her for more information. When her two hours were finally up, she left the kitchen with relief, and more than willingly took up Reiner's spot by the counter.

"Rivaille came in like, minutes after you went into the kitchen; you just missed him," he told her, with an exaggerated wink on his part before he got off the stool.

She sighed, rolling her eyes at him, and waving him on into the kitchen. She spent the rest of the day alternating between trying to study in the kitchen and fending off Bert and Marco's absurd questions, and studying the cashier with a sort of intensity that might have been scary to the casual observer, but was amusing to the more observant ones. She frequently looked up from under her eyelashes, stealing glances at Rivaille and trying to figure out his studying method, her eyes always flitting back down whenever someone happened to look up, or when Reiner came out the door to take over.

When eleven finally rolled around, she left Bert and Marco behind in the kitchen raising their eyebrows in a suggestive manner at her, and winking excessively.

"You look like you have a nervous tic," she finally told them, just before she left. "Stop."

As she was pulling her bag out from underneath the counter and hoisting it on her shoulder, Reiner told her that Rivaille had already left (as if she couldn't tell from the empty booth) and that he wondered why Rivaille never stayed long enough to wait for her to leave the café together. She waved at him on her way out, not wanting to stay back and try to untangle the whole thing with him.

Rivaille pulled himself off the wall as she came out, moving as languidly as ever, before falling into step next to her. The silence that followed between them, however, had a strange element to it—something that hadn't been there for the past few weeks.

"Is something wrong?" He finally asked. He'd been waiting for her to start talking first, like she normally did whenever something was bothering her, but tonight she kept her lips firmly shut, her arms swinging slightly stiffly by her side.

"No," she replied shortly, before sighing. Her head tipped to the sky, she continued walking along in a straight line. "It's just—" She cut herself off then, and didn't continue. Beside her, Rivaille reached out and pulled her back onto the path with a slight tug, his fingers warm through her jacket. He remained silent as he removed his hand again, his warmth fading fast from her arm. "You never acknowledge me in the halls," she finally said.

"You don't acknowledge me either," Rivaille said next to her, his tone unreadable.

"That's because I thought you didn't want people to know we knew each other!" she exploded, looking at him in exasperation.

Next to her, Rivaille continued looking straight ahead, his side profile as calm as ever. "Well, you seem like you value your privacy a lot. And if word gets out that we do know each other, the whole school is going to be talking about it for the next few weeks, or even months. I didn't think you'd want that to happen,"

"Oh," she went quiet next to him. It was a plausible explanation, one that she'd gone through many times herself before, but "It still hurts,"

"Okay," Rivaille said, tugging her to a stop next to him on the concrete path. "So what now?"

"What do you mean, what now?" Mikasa demanded. She'd never been one for showing emotions explicitly (with the exception of anger) and this discussion was making her uncomfortable and edgy; she wanted out.

"I mean, what now? So we acknowledge each other in public now?" He clarified, his voice still calm, his face still unreadable.

"We acknowledge whatever we want to acknowledge," she finally said, scowling at his unperturbed expression.

"Okay," he said, releasing his hold on her arm slightly. "Then I'd like to acknowledge this," and he leaned in, and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"What?" She asked, the fire abruptly leaving her, rushing to the spot where his lips left her cheek and leaving a soft glow in its place. "What?" She asked again, stupidly, blinking again and again like she couldn't stop.

"I like you, Mikasa Ackerman. I'm acknowledging that tonight," Rivaille said simply, half turning away from her.

She mumbled something incoherent in response, still staring wondrously at that stupid, antagonizing, brooding boy in front of her.

"If you're going to speak, at least articulate your words and enunciate," he told her, as if he hadn't just dropped a bombshell on her. "Are you or aren't you an English student?"

She stared at him some more, unable to react. This was a completely new situation for her; most of the boys she knew were scared of her, either of her sharp tongue or her lack of hesitation to beat anyone who offended her up. Eren and Armin didn't give away any details of how they had confessed to their girlfriends, either; they'd just announced it one day to her, and she hadn't questioned it—the progression had just seemed completely natural to her, like it was a given that it would happen. As a result, her brain seemed to be undergoing a systematic shutdown due to a complete lack of understanding as to what to do; she stood there unable to move, just standing there and gaping at him like he'd just sprout out another head _and_ decided to roll around in the mud just for fun.

"You know," Rivaille said conversationally. "Maybe it's just me, but I always thought that when I told a girl that I liked her, there'd be more of a reaction,"

Mikasa just continued standing there, unable to react. She was listening to him; his words were going into her ears, and her brain was registering it, but she was simply at a loss as to what to say, or do. As a result, like any other time when she was unable to comprehend something, she started to get frustrated, and get angry.

"You don't get to do this," she spat. She knew that it was irrational anger, but the words welled up and out of her anyway. "You don't get to not acknowledge me in the café or in the hallways in school for weeks and weeks then just come out of the blue one day and tell me you _like_ me just because we walk home together every night,"

"Alright, then," he responded, his tone still calm. "At least we know where we stand with each other now." Something in his eyes was shuttered off as he turned away completely, staring down the path towards their dorms. "Let's go back, we've stood here long enough in the cold night air,"

He started walking down, his head held high, shoulders back, every bit the smug, confident asshole he had been before she'd yelled at him on a concrete path in the middle of two stunted shrubs, under the warm glow of a dimming streetlamp. She watched him walk away, one step then two, before her hand shot out and pulled him back to where he'd been standing a while ago. He turned, an eyebrow arched towards her.

"Don't walk away while I'm in the middle of saying something," she hissed.

"Ackerman, it's cold, it's half past eleven, and there's still a fair way to go before we get to your dorm. I'm fairly sure that I've understood what you have to say, so let's just go," he told her, in that smarmy condescending way he had.

"Don't assume that you know what I have to say," she bit back, some of her anger becoming more than a little justified.

"So what do you have to say?"

She glared at him, breathing deeply, before she suddenly leaned in and kissed him on the cheek too. He stared at her for a while. Then, "So what are you saying, Ackerman?"

She scowled at the ground, fingers fidgeting by her. He waited there on the concrete next to her, wrist still loosely held in one of her hands. "I'm saying that I like you too," she ground out, trying to burn a hole in the ground with her eyes, hoping that one would appear and swallow her up.

Rivaille tucked his fingers under her chin and brought her head up to meet his eyes, noting with sour amusement that she was still looking down, anyway. "So what are we saying?"

"I don't know," she mumbled.

"Okay," he agreed, dropping his hand from her chin, and turning back towards the dorms again. "We really should go back now; you're going to miss curfew otherwise,"

He started walking away, his wrist slipping from her loose hold. Just as they were leaving her hand, his fingers caught up with hers and tangled themselves together with her own, and he tugged her forward, their fingers an intricate lattice. They walked back down the concrete path together under the orange streetlamps, one taller figure and another shorter one, their hands held firmly together in the crisp night air.


End file.
